


a sliver of a chained heart, beating

by TenebrisKukris



Category: Evillious Chronicles, Vocaloid
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Gender Dysphoria, Light Angst, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29471340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenebrisKukris/pseuds/TenebrisKukris
Summary: She frowns, and the stranger frowns with her. The image feels wrong, somehow, in a way she can’t quite place beyond just language. The canvas has tried to speak the words she’s tried so desperately to say on paper but the images are all wrong. The dissonance between what she feels and what she knows is too strong, some days.ortrans!kyle, michaela, and a glance into a life where things are different but some things always stay the same.
Relationships: Kyle Marlon/Michaela
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6
Collections: Union Server of Evillious 24 hour ficjam





	a sliver of a chained heart, beating

**Author's Note:**

> y’all know the drill another entry for ficjam. also written for kaito’s birthday, late as it is, though i’ll be the first to admit im not sure if this counts lol. a quick story about this fic - i was going to write miclarith instead but i realized while writing a vocaclassic kaito fic that i will be posting much much later that i could kill two birds with one stone and make it about kyle. and so this happened. wrote it all from scratch in one sitting roughly 6 hours before the deadline. And they say I don’t work well under pressure
> 
> some context - this doesn’t quite fit up in the same universe as my other trans!kyle fic, but in vaguely similar circumstances and don’t question why michaela’s a princess here i just stole the idea from that one old ec theory where she was a princess

The dress doesn’t fit her.

It’s a gaudy thing, with ruffles and contours and all sorts of curves where the dress is angled in odd ways. She puts a hand against her waist where the corset tightens her torso in a terrible grip. It’s always been a tight fit, but now it just seems like it’s meant to suffocate her. 

If her body was a temple, she’s certainly been imprisoned.

The mirror shows a stranger. Long blue hair tied into braids with enough makeup that would make a circus clown envious. She doesn’t recognize herself in the mirror, but she’s always avoided mirrors, so that isn’t a surprise.

She frowns, and the stranger frowns with her. The image feels wrong, somehow, in a way she can’t quite place beyond just language. The canvas has tried to speak the words she’s tried so desperately to say on paper but the images are all wrong. The dissonance between what she feels and what she knows is too strong, some days.

But today there is a celebration, and whatever lingering feelings in her chest that she does not quite know how yet to give words to are irrelevant. Her duty is to her kingdom, and right now what her kingdom needs is her presence.

Her hand lingers at her chest, trying to assuage the heartbeat and discomfort. She takes a breath and tries to calm both the nervousness and unease she feels. It doesn’t completely work, of course, but it’ll have to do.

There is a knock on the door.

“Enter,” she says. One of the attendants slips out from the hallway.

“Queen Dowager Prim requests your presence at the ball, Madam,” he says.

“I shall be there shortly; I am just finishing up here,” she responds. The servant bows lowly before exiting your quarters, and once again she is left along with only her thoughts and discomfort in this cage that people call a corset.

She takes another breath, calming down the nausea. Just a few hours, she thinks. Just a few hours of smiling and waving and I’ll be out of this dress.

-x-

It hasn’t been thirty minutes since she’s arrived and she already wants to leave. Of course, she knew that coming into it, but it’s still an annoyance. 

Too many people vying for her attention, too many of her lessons of etiquette coming into play. She can already hear her mother’s voice in her head, _You need to be politeness incarnate, girl. Men will have their eyes on you for one reason or another. Be perfectly still unless prompted. Every movement must have purpose. Like a porcelain statue, you are there to be ogled at and seen. It is better than the alternative._

She’s aware of the necessity, but that doesn’t make it less burdensome.

If it was any consolation to her, the rest of the room seems to be much more engrossed with each other than of her. The emissaries of the other lands seem to be spilling out into the cliques of the other aristocrats, and there is talking and drinking and fine wine shared between all. One of the diplomats - one of the Asmodeans - she believes, is flirting with a female aristocrat - the Duchess of Vale, her mind supplies - and she seems to be flirting back with equal intensity.

There are also a few of the guests dancing - though after a group of Beelzanians nearly cracked the marble floor with their performance, there doesn’t seem to be much excitement on that front.

Her mother seems to be in a good mood though, which means she isn’t focused on you and more towards managing the party. This was meant to be a social gathering, after all, and with the way the wine is flowing as liberally as some people’s tongues, she certainly got what she wanted.

And so she’s here, sitting in one of the chairs around an empty table. There really isn’t much more for her to do than sit and look pretty, but political intrigue has never been her forte.

There is a quiet shiver in the air as servants march from the entrance and into the main hall - another guest has arrived. She tries to stifle a groan. Her ears are ringing from the many trumpets that have been ringing for each guest or pair of guests arriving from Levia knows where.

“Presenting, the Princess of Elephegort,” someone yells out. The trumpets roar as the new arrival comes in. Katherine straightens imperceptibly. Elephegort and Marlon haven’t exactly seen eye to eye in the best of times, so it’s strange that someone so high up would even attend one of Prim’s gatherings.

As the princess enters, there is silence. Both because of her surprising presence, and the fact that she is not wearing a dress or gown, but a suit. The princess’ clothing choices have been taken stride before, as not to cause any diplomatic issue, she remembers, but it’s a faux pas to even mention it, but there is still surprise. But the room goes back to usual soon after, though Katherine notices that there are eyes on the new arrival.

Katherine can’t take her eyes off her. It’s not the first time she’s seen Michaela before, but those instances were through drawings and the occasional picture. Seeing the real deal so close doesn’t even compare.

She shuts her mouth - before realizing she’d been staring and her mouth had been open.

Her nerves seem to catch on fire when she notices that the princess had been staring right back at her. _Keep calm, keep calm Katherine. She probably just noticed that you were staring and she was probably just trying to gauge why._

It isn’t until she steps in her direction, the crowd of aristocrats and emissaries moving like the tide out of her way that she really starts to panic. Inwardly. Because having attention from the princess of an opposing country is just asking to start a diplomatic nightmare.

Michaela doesn’t seem to notice her turmoil and takes a seat right next to her - _which is a big breach of etiquette_ but no one is going to call her out on it because she technically outranks almost everyone else here.

“Hello, beautiful,” Michaela says, and the complement both makes her uneasy and somehow reassured. It’s also another breach of etiquette, but Katherine isn’t going to call her out on it.

“You’re beautiful yourself,” she blurts out, and _holy shit_ she could start a war over this.

Michaela doesn’t react badly, which is a relief, and instead laughs softly at her. It’s an almost melodious laugh that reminds her almost of bells chiming and - Katherine you’re staring again keep your eyes level.

The princess seems to relax now, leaning back in the chair. Katherine’s still stood up straight, but she tries to lean back as well - since etiquette isn’t that important right now. Of course now that it’s just the two of them on the table it’s doubtful that anyone else will join them, so she feels that she can slack off a bit.

“Not a fan of parties,” Michaela queries.

She blinks. “I’m not, really.” Great, nice answer, Katherine. Give the girl who’s allowing you a reprieve from this nightmare the shortest answer possible.

“It’s not my thing,” Katherine continues. “It feels like politics most of the time,” she says, staring at the hall, where she knows there are deals being made, information and money and favors switching hands, betrayal and loyalty and even love being made quickly and quietly amongst the coalition of rich and powerful.

“And I already get enough of that in my daily life; I don’t want to deal any more of that than I already have to,” she finishes.

Michaela seems to consider this as she leans backward even more, the chair’s front legs being lifted off the ground. The suit stretches across her arms and legs much better than the dress she’s wearing, and the emphasis on her curves and breasts seems much better than a corset. There’s a twinge of envy that seeps through her, but she crushes that thought down. Her mother would never approve of that, and she doesn’t want to expend the energy to daydream.

“Would you like to take a stroll in the gardens,” Michaela asks. Katherine’s a bit taken aback since they’d be leaving the party and - ah. That would normally be a breach of etiquette but since they’re both _technically_ more or less the same level of royalty it’s acceptable. And besides, she thinks, watching some of the guests file off into different rooms - and she knows very well what some of them are doing in there, it’s better than staying here and being eye candy.

She smiles, pretty and posed like the princess she is, “Lead the way.”

-x-

The Marlon Gardens are a nice bit of greenery within the palace walls that she used to play in while she was a child. There’s a hedge maze as well deeper in, but they decide to sit on one of the benches instead of exploring further. She’d like to loosen her corset but that would require her to get out of her dress, and there is no way she can put it back on without assistance.

While Michaela kindly offered her a way out of that dreadful party, Katherine doesn’t think they’re that close to be doing anything like that just yet.

Michaela, however, seems to have no issues loosening her tie up, stuffing the piece of clothing in her pocket. She looks slightly more disheveled now, but Katherine doesn’t think that she looks worse for it.

Maybe she can untangle her braids without much issue, but it’s a difficult task to get at some bits of her hair at the back. She tries to reach in closer to the braid but it’s farther than she expected. The presence of two hands barely touching her hair makes her freeze.

“Do - Do you need help with untangling that,” Michaela asks, her voice hesitant.

“I - Um, yes,” she stammers, “Could you do the two at my back? I can’t reach them very well.” Smooth, Katherine, very smooth.

Michaela seems to untangle the knots easily enough, her fingers pulling hair deftly and without much fanfare. Her blue locks come down like waves on the shore and she pulls a lock of hair behind her ear so that she doesn’t face the princess with a bunch of hair in her face.

“Thanks for that,” she says, “and for getting me out of that party. I don’t know how long I could’ve stayed in there without dying inside.”

Michaela smiles - and then in one motion, takes her arm in hers and kisses it - like how a prince would kiss a princess. The thought brings a sudden and shrill feeling in her chest - and not because her first thought was that she was about to get assassinated.

“It’s my pleasure,” she replies, smiling, releasing the grip and letting Katherine’s hand run free.

Suddenly it’s very hot in here, despite the cold air of the night cooling everything down. There’s a cold breeze on the horizon - perks of being on an island country, and she already knows her face is very red.

“Have you been poisoned,” Michaela asks, a smile on her face. “I’d rather not have a diplomatic incident.”

Katherine laughs, a free and flowing laugh - without the proper poise that’s expected of a princess, and that makes her all the happier for it. She punches Michaela in the arm, lightly. “You jerk, embarrassing me like that - like - like you were some suave prince and I was the helpless princess.”

She mock gasps, a hand placed on her heart in an overdramatic pose. “Am I not, though? Have I not rescued this fair maiden from her terrible fate as a decoration in someone else’s party. And as such, do I not deserve a reward.” Michaela looks at Katherine with mischief in those expectant eyes.

Katherine isn’t quite sure what possessed her to lean in but it seems like Michaela also chose that exact moment to also lean in - maybe to egg her on or just tease her some more but instead of one or the two of them bumping heads they -

They kiss.

Katherine doesn’t even notice it until afterwards, her mind short circuiting at just what exactly she experienced. She leaned away first, her mind reeling with apologies and excuses but Michaela just _looks_ at her that it almost reminds her of a kicked puppy that her heart melts.

In the end, it’s Katherine who breaks the silence first.

“I - I’m sorry - I think I’ve made a mistake - I - I, uh I should, um maybe I should go,” she splutters, words carelessly from her mouth. She’s already thinking on how to do damage control when Michaela shushes her with a finger to her mouth. She stills.

“Don’t worry so much about it,” she says, smiling. “It was just an accident. I won’t tell anyone. We princesses have to stick together. It’s hard being royalty sometimes, I get it.” Katherine doesn’t quite get “it” but any excuse is better than what is almost certainly a big political issue. At least Michaela doesn’t seem to be willing to spill the beans either.

“Thank you,” Katherine says, trying to give the princess a smile.

They don’t talk about the accidental kiss, though while it still lingers in Katherine’s mind, the topics of conversation shift wildly from general life as royalty, to their experiences around their respective countries, and to their own aspirations outside their overbearing family.

But time does pass, and soon, they see the first sign that their time together is ending.

From their position, Katherine can see a large procession of guests exiting one of the rooms and out of the mansion. The festivities must have already ended. The two of them rise to their feet in response - it’s almost time for Michaela to leave as well.

“Thanks for the conversation,” Katherine says. “And the kiss. I guess.”

The princess laughs lightly at the mention of the kiss. They’re too far in the garden for any bystanders to hear anything they’re saying, so it isn’t any issue. “Thanks for being entertaining enough to make me not regret accepting the invitation. Honestly, they could’ve sent a delegate for this instead of making me sail all this way for one party.” Michaela shoots Katherine a smile, and Katherine very well knows that feeling.

And here Michaela hesitates. Katherine can see it one her face and in the stiffness of her movements - but it’s still a surprise to her as to what happens next. 

In one fluid motion, Michaela kisses her on the cheeks, lightly. The sensation is soft, and once more Katherine is stunned by it - she brings her hand unconsciously up to where she kissed at. 

Michaela smiles, bright and cheerful at her and starts to walk away. Katherine can only stare at her retreating figure as the events of what just happen linger even more in her mind. And just like Michaela, her happiness seems to retreat into the darkness as she realizes what she’s just done.

It isn’t quite the fact that she’s just kissed a girl, twice, which would normally be okay since being royalty means she has more leeway into that sort of thing, but rather that she just had some kind of flirtation with Michaela specifically. Who is the princess of a country that is arguably her country’s enemy on a good day. Any kind of public interaction runs the risk of igniting _war_.

The tightness in her chest seems to have come back tenfold. And yet. And yet when she reaches up to the place Michaela kissed her cheek, she finds that she can’t feel any regret at all.


End file.
